Silver Eyes
by FreakyHOTGeek
Summary: A generally ignored girl sees everything... what happens when they start to be interested in what she's heard? This will be a romance for the ages, folks. R&R More info inside!
1. Chapter 1

Silver Eyes

And Other Such Badly Titled Things

By: ME! OMG!

**Note:** Hey you all, I believe you are actually here, reading this! So that means I'd LOVE it if you'd take a moment of your time to REVIEW! Thank you SOOO much! Anyway, let's get this random ball rolling, shall we. Prepare for a romance for the ages. With an OC, of course. I love original characters, and can't live without them. However, there's a tidbit of shipping in it as well. Mainly Drinny (Ginny/Draco, for those of you who don't know) and Harry/Luna. Don't ask. It's my weirdness. Who knows what else may come up, however. Probably inadvertent bit of Ron/Hermione. So who does that leave our heroine? Good question. Wait and see, won't you?

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Harry Potter, and I never said I did. So no suing me, please and thank you.

Chapter One

What Becomes of the Shy

I am used to being the girl that no one paid attention to. I've been in Gryffindor for full five years like everyone else in my year, the new sixth years, but almost no one knows my name. If they do, it's only a passing thought, nothing more.

It's not that my appearance couldn't gain attention on its own. If what people thought of you was based solely on how you looked, everyone would be in a constant state of wonder about me. I'm normal enough from a far off glance. I have long, straight, light brown hair, which I usually have pulled to a low ponytail with some bangs hanging lose. I'm of pretty normal height, pretty normal weight. It isn't any of those things which make me stand out. It's my eyes. They are silver. No, not that drab grey that some people call silver to pretty it up, but real, true silver, which has tone and depth and glistens in the light. I could drown in my own eyes, if I stared at my reflection long enough. That's how odd they are.

You'd think, with eyes like that, I'd be someone extraordinary. Someone spectacular. Or at least someone who rocked at least a few worlds. But oh no no no, that's not how I am. I am Shiva. I am, as my name suggests, beautiful. It's not a vain thing to say. It's what everyone's told me, everyone who spent enough time looking. But the beauty isn't coming from _me._ It's the eyes. They distract from everything I lack, pulling you in.

I am alone, cold as ice. Or at least, that's how my peers think of me, when they do, which is rarely.

I hear the things they say about me behind my back. When the gossip about all else dies down, usually in mid-winter, they decide to talk about me.

"Her eyes are rather creepy, aren't they?" someone will say, and I know they're talking about me.

"Like they look right into your soul or something."

"Probably why she thinks she's better than everyone else."

Never once, not one measly time, had anyone paused to consider that maybe I don't think I'm better than everyone else. Maybe I'm just nervous, skittish, afraid. Maybe new people, or people who I don't know well, make me nervous.

But this, this is not my story. This is me rambling, complaining, about things I can't change. Not on my own.

My story begins the morning of the first day of my sixth year. The morning… of the first day of the rest of my life…

It dawned like any other morning. Too bright, and too early. But today, I was ready. Today, I was eager to begin the year that I was certain had to be different from the ones in the past. I was not going to settle for being that girl no one paid attention to any more. I was not going to spend my free time huddled up in the lavatory with a book, hiding from the cruel whispers and laughter of my peers.

I had been saying this for the past four years. It wasn't getting any better.

"You go out there and show them what a great girl you are," Mum encouraged, pushing me into the sleek, ministry issue car which was to take me to the Hogwarts Express. As usual, she wasn't coming.

My mum is an Unspeakable. So naturally, I really haven't a clue what it is she does at work. She could be a prostitute for all I know. Though that _is_ unspeakable, I like to think that what she does, whatever she does, is a bit more productive.

The ministry driver does not speak to me. Sometimes, the drivers are friendly. In my first year, I had one much like this one. Then in the second year, he was a kindly old man, but third year did not bring such luck. I quickly learned it was a toss up.

By now, you are probably wondering about my opinion of the Boy Who Lived. What was going through my head while he was showing up in the Prophet with all kinds of insane stories. Or when he was, though underage, competing in the Triwizard Tournament.

Well, I haven't really ever given him much thought. When I first saw him, it registered in my mind, of course. _Oh, this is Harry Potter. This is the boy who lived._ That's what everyone thinks, when they see him. Or at least, it's what I thought. But personally, I realized soon enough he was just another person. Just another boy I would never talk to. Another boy who would never talk to me. Case in point; he's nothing special, not in my life. But, then again, is there anything special in my life?

I shouldn't be so negative. There are plenty of special things in my life. I did wonderfully on my exams every year, for instance. Of course, I should, as I have about nothing to distract me from studying. I'm an observer, not someone up there in the front line. And I spend the entire time I'm watching hoping to be up there, in the front. I watched Harry Potter become a legend, have a downfall, and then become a legend all over again. I did not once say a word to him, though he is in my house, and in my year. That is what I think of Harry Potter.

The driver pulls up to King's Cross, and tells me to get out. I nod and do so. My things hop out of the trunk after me, and he wheels away.

How bloody kind of him. Or not.

But fending for myself? Easy.

I pick up my trunk, and the latest paperback novel. I square my shoulders up, and I walk into the station, and onto the platform.

As usual, it is bustling with life, with excitement.

"Mum, I think I've lost a quill," I hear one girl whine. I sigh. Hello, Hogwarts Express.

The train is magnificent, as it always is. I am excited despite myself, and optimistic. This could be my year. I could really make something of myself this year.

And then, I remember the escapade of finding a compartment to sit in. Another awkward train ride with people who don't really care about me, or even notice me. I'm let in on pity or intrigue. But that's okay by me.

This time, however, I'm in for a shock. I walk through the corridors of the train, trying to find somewhere empty, and someone reaches a hand out from inside a compartment and pulls me in.

"Thought you looked a little lost," the owner of the arm says. I freeze up. It's not just a person I don't know; it's a boy. An absolutely bloody beautiful boy at that. He has jet black hair that hangs around his face, framing perfect features, just a little bit of it falling over his ice blue eyes. I don't make eye contact.

"I'm not lost," I say to the floor.

"You could have fooled me," the figure says. I chance a glance at his face. He is smiling.

"Is that… a Gryffindor?" a decidedly rude voice says in the same manner the owner of a cat might say if that cat had brought a dead animal of suspicious origins to their feet.

"I don't know," the owner of the arm replies. "Are you?"

I blink. I know the voice of Draco Malfoy. I don't like where this is headed. "Yeah," I admit. "But honestly, I don't mean any—"

"You're that girl with the silver eyes," Malfoy says, his voice giving away barely a hint of curiosity.

_Yeah and you want to make something of it, you git? _But I don't say this. I would never say that.

"Yeah," I admit again. "But really, I'll just g—"

"Sit down, don't be daft," the blue-eyed boy says. Draco Malfoy shoots him a glance that says, _Don't invite a Gryffindor in here. Even if it one that has rumors I'd like to resolve._ But the boy ignores this look.

I am dumbstruck. I've never had anyone take this much notice in me before. At least, not one person, not all at one time like this. It's caught me a bit off guard.

"I'm Blaise Zabini," he says, extending his hand.

Before I really know what I'm doing, I've taken it. I stare down at our hands, clasped as if it's nothing. I realize this is the first time I've ever really touched a boy. And then I realize I'm supposed to say something back.

"Shiva," I say simply. I don't want my mum's name clinging to me. Anyone with ministry parents know that name, and know that everyone in the family for generations have been Unspeakables. That makes me unspeakable by default. Which is not exactly a walk in the park.

"Draco Malfoy," Malfoy says, unnecessarily. I wonder if he's always got this importance complex. Where he has to be noticed in the conversation. Seeing the look in his eyes, I decide that yes, he does always have an importance complex. "And these are Crabbe and Goyle," he adds in afterthought, pointing to two ugly, large boys who look as if they may be a bit lacking in the mental department. Namely, lacking in the existence of any brain at all.

"Er… good," I say, not sure what else there is to be said. I'm going to have even more rumors after this. Sharing a compartment with Slytherin boys. I sigh. This is going to be a very interesting year…

**End note:** I'm not sure whereabouts I expected this story to lead me, but it was most certainly not where it did. That's the beauty of writing, though, isn't it?

Do review. Thanks! Love you all!

Oh, and almost forgot, if you review, you get CYBER COOKIES! Hurrah!


	2. Hello again, Hogwarts

Silver Eyes

And Other Such Badly Titled Things

By: FreakyHotGeek

**Note: **Eh… my… gawd! I did NOT expect this much of a reaction with reviews! To be honest, I was going to feel lucky if I got ONE! Oops… a few of you noticed my little blip with the description of Blaise… I think we'll just say this is OOC? Or AU, one... Lol… I guess I got a bit carried away with my imagination… happens all the time. –sigh- Anyhoo, special thanks to my first five reviewers, Mrs.BoogerSnooger, Niveneh, The Elven Sisters, juicebump88, and Lilybet Edyvean (Youch, criticism! Thanks for the pointers!) Cyber cookies for all!

**Disclaimer:** If I owned Harry Potter, do you think I'd even be bothering with this clearly insane and slightly untrue to the characters (I'm sorry, Blaise! T.T) story? Case in point, I don't own it.

Chapter Two

Hello again, Hogwarts

I have to admit, being in a compartment full of Slytherin boys isn't exactly what I expected. I don't know what I was expecting, exactly, and truth be told I'm a little afraid to know what it was. But what I got was…

"So, what year are you?" Blaise asked.

_I've only been in your bloody potions class for the past six years, you dunderhead. How quickly they forget…_ "Er… sixth year," I mutter.

"Oh, right," he says, sounding incredibly proud of himself. "I remember you from Potions class. You're—"

I wait for him to finish. To tell me the rumors I already know are being spread about me. But he doesn't. He doesn't get the chance, because Draco Malfoy smells the conquest first.

"You're that girl everyone talks about all the time. Honestly, Blaise, you'd think you'd remember. If I recall… we helped a few of those rumors along."

I color. I expect this of him, of course. But Blaise seems nice. Oh, what was I thinking? A Slytherin? Nice? Those words clearly are not meant to exist together without the assistance of the word "not".

"Er…" I sputter, hating that I sound so daft, but unable to really do anything about it.

They stop trying. Not that Malfoy really ever started.

Time goes by so slowly when you're wishing you could pluck up the courage to start a conversation, to ease the awkwardness around you. I should have known better than to come in here in the first place. Not only are things not going to change, but they are Slytherins. I'm a Gryffindor. We aren't meant to get along. It's just the natural order of things.

For some reason, I feel my hope sinking unbelieveably. And then—

"We should get our robes on," Draco says, and even I detect the wickedness in his voice, the suggestion. I think I may have vomited a bit. But to actually respond to something so horrible? What's a girl to say, except for…

"Oh… erm… I… um…"

Wow. Not exactly the response I was hoping to choke out, but it is a start. And then I wonder what will happen if I don't speak up. And that's enough to keep me going. "What I… er… What I mean is, all right, I'll find an empty compartment," I say all in a rush.

"It speaks," Malfoy says, mocking shock. "Do alert the media."

_Do dry up and get a life._

I just walk out of the carriage, robes in hand, the whole time thinking I should just never go back, just find a nice, empty compartment and sit there instead, a book in my hands as usual, my only companion.

And something, something small but still there, pushes me back to that same compartment. I don't know why it is my actions never seem to match my thoughts, but I'm cursing that fact the entire time I wait for the door to open back up. At length, Blaise's head appears and he says, "Okay, it's safe. We think."

I don't dare to wonder what there is to think about. It's not as if it matters. I'm probably never going to see these boys again, not in the same way. They'll pass me in the halls, maybe remember for a moment that they shared a compartment with me, and then fan the flames of the rumors in the wintertime.

I have never been more relived, or more disappointed, to see Hogwarts. It looks the same as always, which is why, I think, I let out the breath I hadn't known myself to be holding in a sigh. I had somehow been expecting it to have changed. A sign that I, too, could muster a change. But no such luck on either front.

The instant the train stops moving, I stand.

"That eager to get away from us?" Blaise asks. I feel myself blush.

"It's… it's not really like that…"

Draco Malfoy rolls his eyes at me, and I wish I had the courage to hex him within five inches of his life.

"Well go on, then, don't let me stop you," Blaise continues, a smile playing about his lips. I feel my cheeks growing hotter.

I want to leave, want to run, but at the same time I'm rooted to the stop. Every grain in my body is screaming for me to get away… screaming for me to stay exactly where I am. In the end, I settle on smoothing my robes a bit and standing there. I don't like the feel of eyes upon me as people pass, probably wondering what I'm doing in this carriage, if they can even figure out who I am.

I have passed five years of my education content with sitting in the shadows. Or rather, pretending to be content with it. I wonder now if the entire time I haven't been screaming for someone to break whatever chains I'm holding myself down with.

I take a deep, deep breath, and then I say, "I'll see you around, maybe," before I stride out into the hall, into the sea of meaningless faces. I can never pick them apart when there are so many. It's not as if any one person has treated me especially different from any other.

The carriages that take us to the castle have always scared me a bit. Of course, with all the reading I do, it's only natural I'd know what leads them. But not being able to see such a thing… that's never settling, no matter how much you tell yourself it's there.

I hop into the first carriage I see, and it's blissfully empty. That's the important bit; get there first so you don't have to feel like you're pushing yourself on someone else.

I end up sharing with two loud, annoying, and very young boys, who are, by the looks of them, in Hufflepuff. And by the looks of them, I mean ridiculously clad with matching yellow hats.

Naturally, I don't mention the fact that they look stupid in their hats. In fact, I don't even muster the courage to say a hello when they hop in, groaning.

The carriage rolls up to the front door, and I hold my breath again. The boys step down, and, thankful to be rid of them, I relish the moment alone, though later I know I'll be begging to spend not another moment in that same solitude. It would become a constant, and I hate that.

But presently, I've got the concern of making it to the Great Hall without a fluke to occupy my mind.

I try to breathe steadily-in, out, in, out. It isn't working, but at least saying the words consecutively in my mind that way helps to keep it from going stray. As long as it's focusing on one thing, it can't possibly find something new, and much less safe, to focus on. At least, I hope not. But with my mind, one can never quite be sure.

I catch another passing glance of the Boy Who Lived. Despite myself, I always notice it when he's there. It's sort of a reaction I have… a sort of funny radar for people who attract far more attention than I do. He's chattering away with some friends of his. But then, when isn't he?

I sigh again and follow my peers into the Great Hall, to begin the painful and tedious process of finding somewhere to sit at the long Gryffindor table…

**End note:** Yes, this is a sort of cliffhanger. Yes I am that evil. Please review! I must admit I was a bit scared I would somehow not mange to keep everyone's interest… prove me wrong?


	3. Into The Great Hall

Silver Eyes

By: FreakyHotGeek

**Note:** Here we go, chappie 3. Sorry it took me so long!

**Disclaimer:** Still not owning Harry Potter, sadly. Oh well.

Chapter 3

Into the Great Hall

I enter the Great Hall, feeling alone despite the fact that I am surrounded by people. That is probably because, while they are all talking amongst themselves, they don't try to talk to me. I figure it must be a vibe I send out now… that "stay away" vibe.

The Hall is filling up now, everyone chattering away in anticipation of the sorting. I find a spot that isn't occupied and sit down, surveying the area.

Harry Potter was, for once, not with his friends, his many, many friends. I figure he must be off charming ladies or whatever it is that the famous do. He does not interest me. His friends I find more worth my time.

Among them, Ron Weasley, who still remains a mystery, and Hermione Granger, our resident know it all. In fact, they make a strange trio… Harry Potter, the famous boy, Hermione, infamously bossy and smart, and Ron Weasley, the poor one, just another Weasley.

I wonder suddenly what my own title in society is. Everyone has them, even people like me. I shudder to think what it might be. Probably something related to the many rumors, that I've got a heart of ice, that I'm the daughter of an Unspeakable. That's me… Unspeakable, and ice. At least, that's me to the rest of the world.

I chance a glance over at the Slytherin table. I see Blaise, smiling and laughing with some friends who were not with us on the train. He is sitting, naturally, beside Draco, who is next to his girlfriend, Pansy. It makes me feel terribly alone to see that even someone like Draco, who is cruel to everyone around him, has more friends than I do.

"I can't believe the sorting is taking so long to start," someone says. I turn and look, seeing a younger Gryffindor.

"It is… strange," I force myself to say. She jumps, as if it hadn't occurred to her I would say anything. She looks at her friend, then back at me.

"Oh, here they come now," she tells me, jerking her head towards the door and scooting away.

Even when I try, I fail.

But she's right, it isn't just an excuse to look away. The first years are filing in through the door, looking as nervous as I myself remember feeling that day, that moment.

"It's going to be fine," I'd like to tell them. "It will all be fine."

But if someone had said that to me… I wouldn't have believed them. And I'd have been right. The way things were for me now were not what I would consider fine. So how could I know any of these first years would be fine?

The sorting hat begins the sorting with another song, another warning. I sigh. Even the dangers we are all facing now, against Voldemort, who's name I have come not to fear, do not seem to apply to me. What would the "Dark Lord" want with a girl like me? No, from him I am safe. If the school was raided, his enemies killed, he would leave me where I lay, the world seeming no more empty then than it did when I went to bed.

The food is the thing I was looking forward to. No socializing for me. Just sit, eat, listen, and go to bed. Not the most active life in the world, but it works.

Dumbledore does a little speech, but I'm not paying attention any more. I just want this night to be over, want to be in bed.

At some point, Harry Potter slips back into the room, his face a mess. I wonder what has transpired, and wonder it has anything to do with the brief interval when I'd left Draco and Blaise's compartment and when I'd returned. I don't pay attention for long, however, as it could really interest me less.

The plates fill up with food; mounds and mounds of every food you could ever imagine. I smile a little bit, just ever so slightly, when a few boys attack it as if they've never seen food before in their lives.

I try and wait until most everyone has already grabbed what they want. After all, an incident of clanging hands against someone else is too terrible to imagine. Eventually I give in and reach forward towards a plate of chicken legs. Just as I'd predicted, my hand brushed on someone else's. I look up into Ron Weasley's face. I can tell already he's a bit caught in my silver eyes. I, too, am trapped in the gaze.

"Oh… sorry…" he mumbles, his voice sounded quite unlike I recall it being. I wonder why this always happens, what's so strange about my eyes.

"It's okay," I respond, breaking the gaze and sighing as he shakes his head a bit and looks away, as if spooked. I sigh. I really don't try to capture people in my eyes, but it seems to always happen.

I keep my head down the rest of the meal, sad that this year seems to be going the same as every other year.

The feast ends, I load up on chocolate during dessert. I am, like many girls, mad for chocolate.

A bit tired, and very full, I stand up with everyone else, though my feeling of being an outsider has intensified, when I'd thought it impossible to do so.

I'd nearly made it out of the Great Hall without incident when I, naturally, trip over my own robe. It's a lot like me to be so clumsy, so I'm not actually very surprised. Just embarrassed.

I jump to my feet, but it's not quick enough to avoid being in the way. Stumbling a little, I reach out, hoping to grab at the wall, only a few feet away. Instead, I grab onto something… different.

"Get off me, you slime," Draco sneers. I gulp and draw my hand away very, very slowly.

"I'm… er.. .I'm sorry," I say, frightened by the look of murder in his eyes.

"What gives a Gryffindor like you the right to grab me?" he asks, looking down at me, because I've forgotten to stand. I jump up at once.

"I didn't mean to," I mutter unhappily. "I… er… just I…"

"Oh for heaven's sake, Malfoy, it's the first day," Blaise says. "Let off them a bit? The torment can always begin tomorrow." He says this as if he intends to torment me later, but he's smiling at me.

"Oh all right, but only because she's not worth it."

And just like that, they sulk off, and it occurs to me to wonder if Blaise Zabini just rescued me from Draco Malfoy.

**End note:** Well well well… what do we think of this chapter? Review? –puppy dog eyes-


	4. Could This Be the Year?

Silver Eyes

By: FreakyHotGeek

**Note:** Wow there are a lot of hits on this story! I hope some of you start reviewing more often! Yay! Anyhoo, thanks once again to everyone who's reviewed! Oh, this is my last update for about a week, as I'm going on vacation. I'm bringing a notebook for the car ride, and will turn to my loyal pen to write some more chapters to type up super speedy like when I get back!

**Disclaimer:** I'm sorry, but I cannot accept your worship, as Harry Potter and the like were not my idea! sob

Chapter 4

Could This Be The Year?

As usual, I woke up bright and early, feeling refreshed and ready for the day. Of course, I wasn't exactly optimistic about what the day was going to bring, but at least I was awake for whatever it was.

I hadn't been able to stop wondering if maybe, just maybe, Blaise was showing an interest in me by telling Draco to lay off last night. Having little experience, it was hard for me to tell. As I headed down the staircase, I was, once again, going over the events in my mind. It occurred to me then that this was the first time in a long time I'd had much to think about other than school work. I'm trying to figure out whether this is a good thing or not when I see at once that something is out of place in my rountine. Usually, when I get downstairs for breakfast, there aren't many students at all around, and the ones that are, I don't know at all. Today, however, Harry Potter (now cleaned up) and his friends are sitting at the table, in my usual spot.

Change, it seemed, was looking for me this year.

Now I was faced with quite the dilemma. I could, of course, sit off at the end of the table, clearly and obviously avoiding them, or I could take my usual seat, which was currently next to Hermione Granger. Either way, I couldn't just stand here much longer.

_Come now, she's not going to bite. _I realize I'm being stupid, and that this could be an opportunity, and walk over, pull the chair out, and sit down, barely managing not to fall off of it.

"Er… good… morning," I say nervously, avoiding eye contact.

"Good morning!" Hermione says, sounding perfectly pleased to see me. I wonder if she even knows my name.

"And, who are you again?" Ron says bluntly.

I try to smile, but I'm actually a little hurt. "Shiva," I remind him. "I'm… I'm in your year," I remind.

"Right," Ron says, turning red and looking away. I realize he's only just remembered last night.

Harry doesn't say anything, and I want to scream at him "You're bloody famous, can't you spare a few little words for someone who isn't?" but I don't. Instead, I let the silence slide over us all like a blanket.

At length, Harry and Ron begin chatting away over something or another, and I'm off in my mind, sorting through what I'll need for my first day of classes.

Hermione is rambling already about her grades and things. Even I know this is about all she ever does, as far as anyone can tell. I also know, though whether this is widespread or not I am unsure, that she clearly has a thing for Ron. He returns the affection. They're both too stupid to realize what even a complete stranger can.

Naturally, the rest of the meal passes in silence. The time comes for me to go, though everyone else is still eating, and I wonder what I'm supposed to say now.

"Er… see you later," I mutter, and Harry looks up and says;

"Yeah, okay."

And that's it.

Shrugging, I walk off.

My first class today is Divination, which, believe it or not, I've never had before. It was a recommendation from Dumbledore that got me in. Though why he cares what classes I take for NEWT is utterly beyond me.

I'm nervous about going to this class. I arrive a little early, and stare up at the trap door. Everyone who's been in that class will know I don't belong. They'll want me gone.

I stare up at the trap door only a few minutes longer, and then I am, sadly, joined by a few other students, who blink at me.

"Who are you?" one of them asks.

I am not in the mood to be messed with, I am far too nervous about my new class. I turn and look them in the eye. "Shiva," I say calmly. She backs away into the crowd, and a few whispers are exchanged. This is nothing I'm not used to. What happens next, however, is.

A semi-familiar voice says, "Shiva, I didn't know you were in this class."

I turn and find myself looking, once again, into the eyes of Blaise Zabini, who doesn't even flinch or recognize a thing odd about my eyes. I feel myself blushing and looking at the floor.

"Oh… I… I'm joining the class… this year… recommendation from Dumbledore…" I explain. Once again, I'm left wandering when he'll realize he's not to be talking to me. When he'll walk off like everyone else, and leave me standing there, alone and cold.

"Great! We could use someone interesting in this class," he says, jerking his finger at the hodge-podge of students there. I realize they are from all different houses, and Blaise is the only Slytherin, I'm the only Gryffindor, aside from a very off-standish looking girl, who stares at the ceiling as though it is the most fascinating thing she's ever seen. I wonder if that is how others see me.

"Erm… thanks," I say.

"You really are a woman of few words, aren't you?" Blaise says, smiling at me. I feel strange under his unwavering gaze, and realize no one has ever looked at me this long or this hard before. Any minute, he will see what anyone would see if they paid enough attention. I am not beautiful in the way you would think. My eyes give the illusion. I wait for him to see this and go bother one of the pretty girls standing under the trap door, but he doesn't get the opportunity. The trap door slides open, the ladder down, and the strange, beetle-eyed Professor Trelawney is staring down at us.

"Welcome, students, welcome to another year of Divination!" she calls as the first few being to climb the ladder. I blink up at her, startled. She wasn't exactly what I'd expected, though of course I had seen her before around the castle, in her few ventures down from her tower.

I enter the hot room, and am once again faced with the awful dilemma of where to sit. I know better than to think anyone would welcome me with open arms. That would be a folly on my part.

In the corner, there is an empty pouf, which is where I place myself, not expecting company. When the pouf next to me suddenly becomes occupied, I nearly stand and walk away. But Blaise's smile holds me in place.

"Thought you'd get away, did you?" he says, beaming at me.

And then, Trelawney swoops over, looks from him to me and back, and then gasps at me.

"The headmaster was right… you have… the gift… a most unusual version…"

And just when I thought no one in the world would ever notice me, the eyes of the entire class are upon me, staring at me, boring into me. And all I can do, is stare at the floor and hope it all goes away…

**End note:** Yes, I know I know… dreadful of me to leave you all hanging when I can't update for at least a week… but I had to finish up soon because we're leaving soon! Love you all, please review, and do give my other story a chance if you get the time. The first two chappies are a bit slow, but it gets MUCH better.


	5. What I Am

Silver Eyes

By: FreakyHotGeek

Note: Hey everyone, I'm back from vacation, freshly tanned, freshly rested, and ready to WRITE! Of course, the 12 hour car ride there lead to some more… interesting… ideas and plot developments. Let's see what you think of chapter five, eh?

Disclaimer: Sadly Harry Potter does not belong to me… curse it all! –sob-

Chapter 5

What I Am

I blink up at the teacher as she stares down at me, her large eyes glistening.

"You," she says airily, crooking a finger at me. "Will see me after class."

Whispers echo in the room. Already I am ostracized. I must remember to thank Professor Trelawney someday.

"Don't let her scare you," Blaise says quietly in my ear. "She's always trying to weird new students out. I'm sure it's nothing."

I wonder what it was on my face that lead him to believe I was afraid. In truth, I am merely numb. Whatever she has to say, I am sure, will not affect the way thins are, the way they will be.

At Blaise, I merely smile weakly, deciding that its better he thinks he soothed me than know the teacher hadn't scared me. That would be too much an explanation to muster.

"Now," Trelawney says, addressing the entire class, "It is a new year to learn Divination. I have taught you most all I can. Those of you in this room are those who possess the inner eye in some form."

Inner eye? It is now that I realize I have no idea what I've gotten myself in to. Unfortunately, I am about to find out.

"This year, what you must do is condition that inner eye. To do this, you must first open your mind ot the world around it. Therefore, we will meditate."

She begins to explain and demonstrate proper forms of meditation. Many students have difficulty getting into the position. Being clumsy as I am, I'm one of them. Blaise, beside me and already executing perfect form, is not.

"Sorry if I'm making you look bad," he whispers, smirking, as I fall over sideways.

"Zabini," the Professor says. "You're showing off rather than assisting your peers. Help Shiva into the proper position."

I gape and try to say that it won't be necessary, but as I am still lying sideways on the floor, my legs wound around one another, I know that it would be pointless to protest.

"Here," Blaise says gently, pulling me up. "Your problem is, you're too tense."

I raise an eyebrow at him, wondering how I am supposed to relax with Trelawney hovering and him right next to me. It doesn't help when he takes it upon himself to shift my legs into the proper position. I feel like a helpless child, letting him arrange me into the pose.

"There, you see?" he says, a playful twinkle in his eyes. His hand is still on my knee, and I know it's not by accident. He's curious. He wants to know how I will react.

"I don't think," I say softly, smiling at him, "That you're doing it right."

He lifts his hand and returns it to the correct position. "I have taught you well," he says, a glint in his eyes.

After everyone finally gets it right, she instructs us on the proper breathing, and then it is time to go. As I was told, I stay behind, nervous about being late to Transfiguration.

"Good luck," Blaise says with a wink before vanishing through the trap door. I feel a bit dumbstruck as I turn to Trelawney, who is looking kindly at me.

"I take it you are not aware of the powers you possess," she says gravely, removing her spectacles.

I'm a bit surprised by her, actually. From what I'd heard of her, she was an insane and useless woman. Then I recall the rumors about myself and color. I should have known better than to trust any hearsay in the regards of the natures of a person.

"N-no," I respond in confusion. I wonder what cruel joke or trick is being played on me, or what small and petty gift she thinks I have.

"I thought not. And perhaps that is best… those who know of such things from birth are prone to abusing them. As it were, I admire your mother for keeping it from you, and despise her all the same, for now the duty falls to me."

I blink at her, though carefully keeping my eyes away from hers, confused. She is speaking complete nonsense, but her tone is so grave I feel as though I must listen, mustn't judge.

"Professor?" I say, hoping to hurry her on.

"There is no need for such formality, Shiva. I call you by your name, you may call me by mind; Sybil. But alas, for names are not what we are here to discuss. It is a much darker, more serious matter."

I feel as if I am being tested somehow, perhaps for patience, perhaps character. I hold my own and stare levelly at her, never meeting her eyes. Though I doubt it will change anything if I pass this unspoken test, I may as well do my best at it.

"Ah," she says at last. "Perhaps you are more aware than I thought. That is a comfort, for I find this hard to say," She pauses, looks at me, and grabs my chin, tilting my face should that I would have to look her in the eyes, but I am practiced, and I avert my gaze. Another test. "You do not seek to use your power against others, I see. This is a good quality."

I know I have passed, but I still don't know what she's talking about. Still, I remain silent, waiting. The idea of missing class is beyond me now… I'm too curious, too confused.

"Strong and silent," she says, a small, wry smile on her lips. "Not unlike the last of your kind I encountered. And while we are on that subject, you can look me in the eyes if you wish. I am guarded from their spell."

I raise my eyes to hers because I sense that her words were not an offer, but a request. I fear that something strange or awful will happen, but she just smiles again.

"You are old enough now to know the weapon you possess," she says, and I fear the worst, though what that is I have no idea. "I have stalled long enough. Often, you've probably felt you are not like others; this is true. You were born with a dark and powerful gift; the gift to see into people's souls, to control them if you would so wish. The window to souls that your power both manifests itself in and uses to activate are the eyes. I imagine this sounds like codswallop to you, but I would not lie about this. You are different from me, but no less powerful in magic of the oddest kind."

I'm not sure whether to laugh or cry. I can feel the truth in her words, but it sounds insane. It seems it could only be something staged, trying to get me, perhaps, to make eye contact with people, to talk more. But that is a folly… I am not of enough interest to them for that trouble.

"W-why… why wasn't I told this sooner?" I ask.

"Maturity," she responds levelly. "A young and foolish girl told she can control the wills of others can do a lot of damage. But now we feel you are ready."

I felt numb, I didn't know what to say. And then, it struck me that maybe, just maybe, I could be normal, that they could fix this. "What… how do I… can I be cured?" is all I could sputter out of what was racing through my mind.

"CURED?" Trelawney choked, staring at me, fire in her eyes. "It is not a sickness… you can not get rid of it."

"So… I can't ever look… anyone in the eyes?" I ask, the hope that I'd felt only a moment ago quickly receding.

"Of course you can. Once you can control this… I will not lie to you, not hide what you have from you… you can do nearly anything you please, and make others around do anything you please. But I will not stand for this abuse."

I stare at her again. What she is saying is so insane that I reach down and pinch myself, but I do not wake up.

"It's not a dream," Trelawney says kindly. "It's not going to go away."

I sigh, look up at the ceiling, and recognize another one of those strange chances that I shouldn't pass up which keep coming at me this year.

"Then teach me… to control it," I ask.

End note: Ha ha, the plot thickens! As I warned, it's getting a bit of a life of its own here. I hope you like it! See you at chapter six!


	6. Getting to Know Me

Silver Eyes

By: FreakyHotGeek

**Note:** Love you all to pieces, reviewers! I tried to write quick for you, but as usual I've gotten sore wrists from all that typing, so it's coming out a bit slow… -sob-

**Disclaimer: **Hi-ya! –fights off crazed fans with karate move- Sorry to disappoint you, but I'm NOT JK Rowling, therefore NOT the owner of Harry Potter. And sadly, also not Ron Weasley.

Chapter 6

Getting To Know Me

I lay in bed, my mind whizzing with all that had occurred.

Trelawney had agreed to teach me what she knew about my "gift", as she called it. It still seemed so strange, so impossible to me that what she was saying could be true, could be real. And yet, I knew that it was the truth. I had seen first hand what happened when I looked people in the eye.

After I'd begun to ask my multitude of questions, Trelawney had sent me on to Transfiguration, saying that I could miss no more of class, and was to come back at the end of the day.

And so I had done. When I returned to her that evening, I was even more full of questions than when I had left. The first thing I did when I reached her, however, was to tell, not ask. I recounted what had occurred at the feast that first night.

"Ah, yes… What happened to you was this; you did not know the power you possess, and so you could not clearly see into the soul, but also you have always longed for people to look you in the eye, yes?" she paused, waiting for me to nod, which I did. "Therefore Mr. Weasley found himself unable look away, because your will held his gaze."

Now, as I look back, that makes sense. If I could only learn to control it, to not force my will on others with my eyes, then I wouldn't have to be afraid of looking people in the eyes.

Suddenly it occurs to me I should have asked her why Blaise could look me in the eye without problems. I had an inkling of my own, however. He was not only gifted in Divination himself, but likely of strong will. Plus, when he was around, I had a bit of trouble with breathing, letting alone thinking anything useful, so there was nothing in my head for him to be pulled towards doing.

Trelawney had explained to me how to look into the soul, though she cautioned me against doing so.

"The soul is sacred, private. You would do best not to intrude."

Then the rest of our first session was spent in meditation, for keeping a clear mind, not wanting to someone to act a certain way, is how I can keep from disturbing people with my gaze.

It seems insane I could be capable of making anyone do anything, even though the evidence stares me plain in the face. I have a terrible urge to test it, to confirm its truth and reality. As I stare up at my ceiling, I wonder what I would see if I looked into Blaise's soul… and how my life could improve now I knew I could control the reactions of others to myself…

Morning came without my ever recalling falling asleep, and I was full of excitement, optimism, and curiosity, something a bit different from the state I found myself in most mornings. Now that I knkew what had contributed to the sorry state of my life the last few years, I felt more equipped to overcome it.

As I walked down the staircase, for the first time since first I'd climbed them, I held my head high. The very air seemed to be quivering with possibility, and I'd spent too long standing in the shadows ignoring it to do so again.

But at the same time, I feel as if I am merely waiting to be told it was all a joke, a lie, simple deceit. For it shouldn't be this easy to correct six compounding years of being the school's most unimportant student, the most talked about during winter, the most ignored all other times. Maybe I could force them to accept me, but wouldn't my heart still know that I had no friends?

The revelation caused my heart to deflate like a popped balloon.

Still, as I take my breakfast, I try to be impassive, to have no desires to force upon people. It was time to put this to the test.

My place at the table is, as it should be, unoccupied. I settle into it with ease, sighing with the familiarity of it, but it's not to last.

"Hey, Shiva," a soft, warm voice says from behind me. I feel my cheeks turn bright pink.

"Hi," I reply, turning to face Blaise with wonder. What is he doing over here? Why isn't he with Malfoy?

"Draco's got Prefect duties, and since being a Prefect's never interested me personally, I'm stuck with eating breakfast alone. Except of course, you are too, because for unexplainable reasons, you always are. So what do you say to a walk down to the lake for breakfast?"

I blink at him, trying to catch up. He's just invited me to have breakfast. With him. And not Malfoy. Just him. I spend another few seconds gaping like a fish, and finally manage to nod.

"B-but…" I say in afterthought. "What will," I jerk a finger at his fellow Slytherins, "they say about you going off with a Gryffindor?"

"They," Blaise says, smiling warmly at me as he offers his hand to help me up. "Won't say a thing if they know what's good for them."

I smile back, a bit weakly because I'm still a little flabbergasted, and take the offered hand with my own, which trembles terribly.

"Relax, would you?" he says, "I don't bite."

I try to relax. After all, Blaise just happens to be my first ever sort of friend. It's not as if he's madly in love with me, or vice versa. I let out a sigh of held breath, and smile. I resist the urge to scrape his soul with my eyes, to read him like a book. For one, I know it's not right, and secondly, I have the oddest feeling he'd know I was doing it, and I didn't want to lose the only kindness I'd been shown in a very long time here at Hogwarts.

We chat about a few things on the way down to the lake, but once we get there, we are pretty quiet, nibbling at our toast. Blaise sprawls out magnificently, completely at ease, while I clutch my legs up under me and sit stiffly, as is my nature, especially in school.

"Why do you do that?" Blaise asks, cocking his head slightly at me.

"Do… what?" I respond, confused.

"Sit or stand so nervously… and avoid people's eyes… things like that."

I feel my cheeks burn. "Oh…" I begin. "I….that is… I er…"

"Go on, spit it out," he encourages, causing me to emit I sound I only realize afterwards is laughter; I haven't heard it from myself in so long.

"I don't know, it's complicated." I decide on. He goans.

"Diamonds aren't a girl's best friend," he says, a mocking grim tone in his voice, "That word is… complicated."

I sigh, "For lack of a better one, that's it," I say. "I… I suppose I'm just not good around people, for starters."

"For starters? Which means there's more."

I wonder for a moment if I couldn't just make him shut up, but again I decide against it. I'm a bit afraid of delving into this power of mine.

"And… I'm just… different from most girls," I finish, giving him a small look that dares him to question me more.

"Well that'll have to do, for now."

I almost let the silence come over us again, but I realize how stupid that would be. This is yet another opportunity which is staring me in the face.

"You've had your question," I say, grinning slightly, "Now I get mine."

He looks a bit taken aback, but he recovers quickly. "Okay," he says. "Go on, then."

I already know exactly what I am going to say, "What made you invite me into your compartment on the train?" I ask.

His face falls for a second, and he sighs, "Do you want the truth or the nice answer?" he says at length.

"Always the truth," I say, dread filling my heart.

"It was your eyes," he says, and I deflate, apparently visibly, because he added at once, "And not the way most people see it… it was how they were sort of full of hopeless hope, if that makes sense…"

I can only blink at him. "If it was the eyes at first," I say carefully, "Then what made you _keep _talking to me?"

"Tsk tsk tsk, apparently you cannot count," Blaise says lightly. "That's your second question, and you only got one."

There is nothing I can do to defend myself. He's right, after all.

**End note:** There you have it, chapter 6! Hope you liked! Review, please!


	7. Confusing

Silver Eyes

By: FreakyHotGeek

**Note:** Once again, trying to get the next bit to you as fast as possible. Hope you enjoy!

**Disclaimer:** Own Harry Potter? Me? You flatter me, but it's not true, sadly. I don't own it… now leave me to sob in my corner, and read on.

Chapter 7

Confusing

My lessons that day were surprisingly unchanged. Although at several points during the day, I had wanted so badly to "encourage" someone or another to say or do something, I managed not to do it. It seemed so morally wrong, and even though I hated so many of my peers, I didn't want to cause them pain, or intrude on their privacy. It was stupid, but it was also true.

However, there's only so much a girl can take. It was dinner that night when I first took matters into my own hands.

I was, as usual, minding my own business and simply eating my supper, alone and silent. While before I had almost gotten used to the feeling, since having breakfast, and oddly enough, lunch as well, with Blaise, it seemed incredibly lonely to be on my own again. He was, of course, sitting happily at the Slytherin table, surrounded by his friends. I felt a certain sense of envy, wishing I had that many people to call friend.

"Mind if we sit here?" someone asked, startling me. It was Hermione Granger, and she had Harry Potter and Ron with her. I didn't know why they wanted to sit near me, but I shrugged and they did.

Curiosity took me over at once. I wanted to know what the Boy Who Lived was really like. How he felt about it, what his intentions were… Almost before I realized I was doing it, I squared my eyes up with his, careful not to let him realize what I was doing, cautiously convincing him with my eyes I was not looking into his.

I saw that he was afraid, that he was haunted by the death of Cedric Diggory in our fourth year, saw that Ron was without a doubt his best friend, that even he knew Ron was crazy for Hermione… I was drowning in too much information, which I could never hope to conquer. I realized he was in love with Ginny Weasley, and too stupid to realize it. A feeling I got was that he was in no way ready to face Voldemort… he was still too much a child on the inside, too reliant on our headmaster to keep him safe. But I saw also that he was growing up, and sooner or later he'd be forced to become an adult sooner than the rest of us.

I blinked and broke the contact. It was confusing, looking into someone like that. There were so many things, it wasn't at all like reading a book. It was a bit more like plunging your head into the ocean and trying to count every grain of sand, without getting any in your eyes, and without losing track.

I realized that Hermione was talking to me, and tried to listen, but she was going on about lessons, and while they were important to me, I didn't see the point in talking about them outside class. That was probably because I had never had anyone to talk to, in or out of class.

The constant monologue of Hermione's voice was soon interrupted, however, by a more hostile one.

"So, just who do you think you are?"

It was, of course, the voice of Draco Malfoy. He was wearing his signature sneer, a cold, hard look in his eyes.

"Excuse me?" I mustered, rising shakily and returning his glare.

"You think you can just sweep in and start toying up to my friend, is that it?"

I stare blankly a moment before it sets in; he knows I spent lunch and breakfast with Blaise, and he's not happy about it.

"Well I…" I try, not sure what to say, because this is so unbelievably stupid.

"Do you think any of us actually care a lick about you? The only reason we let you in our compartment on the train was those rumors, which are clearly not true."

"And how would you know?" I say, growing angry and frustrated.

"Clearly, you're just a sniveling little Gryffindor like the rest of them," he says, sneering. The table is watching, but no one comes to my aid. Blaise is nowhere to be seen, though I imagine he is somewhere laughing over this little episode.

"Clearly," I say stiffly. "You're just a complete prat."

He just laughs, and leans in very close to me and whispers, "I don't want to see you around any Slytherins ever again, got it?"

I've had enough. He can't boss me around, not when I know what I can do, what I feel I have the right to do.

"I'm sorry," I say. "But I'm afraid I can't tolerate that," I whisper, feeling a strange feeling like ice growing behind my eyes as I meet his gaze, and say, "You need to shut up. You're not to say another cruel thing to me, or anyone so fortunate to be called my friend, ever again."

The result was very different from what I'd expected. His eyes clouded over, his mouth fell out of its sneer, and he just went, "Of course," and then went off. I gaped after him; so did my fellow Gryffindors, who had not heard the whispered words we exchanged.

"How… how did you get him to bugger off like that?" Ron asked, amazed.

I hadn't thought of that result. Why did I always have to be so stupid about things with people? I sigh and come up with an excuse, "I have… a bit of blackmail," I said as mysteriously as I could. In fact, I had blackmail on a lot of people, but not Draco Malfoy. I saw the things no one else saw; heard the things no one else heard.

"Wow, that's pretty impressive," Ron admitted, seeming to look at me in a new light. I wonder how long it will take for him to look at Hermione in the right light to realize he was in love with her.

I just smile a bit. Even though I've spent all this time wishing for people to notice me, now they have I just want them to leave me alone again.

_When did everything get so confusing? _I wonder as I head back up the stairs. Only the second day of school, and already everything in my life has changed.

**End note: **I know it's a bit short and I'm sorry… Review, please?


	8. Notes: Is this Typical?

Silver Eyes

By: FreakyHotGeek

**Note: **I'm starting to get dreadful writer's block with this story, and of course knowing my luck it's the popular one; I have no trouble coming up with ideas for Harry Ron Er! Then again, readers seem to be dropping like flies when it comes to the hits counter doohickey. COME BACK TO ME I LURVE YOU! -sob-

–bangs head against table- Anyhoo, here is the 8th chapter, as best I could create it…

**Disclaimer: **No evil monkeys from Mars have come to Earth angrily bearing my brain, which has gone on holiday there, so sadly I'm afraid I don't own Harry Potter…

Chapter 8

Notes: Is this Typical?

I wake the next morning with a headache. I didn't sleep very well due to odd nightmares of power hungry dictators, of birds pecking her eyes out, and of strange girls in ridiculously frilly pink dresses.

"Oooooooooh," I moan as I roll out of bed, my temple throbbing.

It's difficult, I realize, to get dressed when your head is pounding with such a great extent that you can barely see. Somehow, I manage to pull my robes on and find my school bag. I'm not sure if I trust myself to walk down stairs or not, but seeing as I don't have a choice, I navigate them very, very slowly. With every step it seems a cloud is falling over my vision, probably due to the headache. I trip on the second to last stair and fall over, landing on something that is clearly not the floor.

"Oy! Watch where you're going, mate!"

The thing I've landed on is Ron Weasley.

"S-sorry," I say apologetically, trying to get off of him. In my hazy sight, I can see him standing up, and offering me his hand.

"Thanks," I hear myself say weakly.

"Er… are you all right?" he asks, looking as if he really hopes I'll say yes because he doesn't know what to say if I don't.

"Possibly," I say. "Headache. Killer headache." I mumble, shuffling aside and letting him go back over to where Harry Potter is sitting, his head in his hands. I stop dead in my tracks, realizing something that must be insane.

My head hurts. Harry's head hurts. I looked into his eyes for a long time yesterday. Maybe there's some side-effect Trelawney has forgotten to mention, or something more you have to do to prevent from sort of staying inside their head. That would, of course, be just my luck. I rub my head discreetly and hurry off towards the Great Hall. I may have a headache like none before, but I'm also very hungry.

The Hall seems even more empty than usual, but one thing I do notice is that Draco Malfoy is sitting very complacently in his seat, looking a bit weirded out. Chances are, he can't figure out why he no longer hates me. I'm not sure how the whole thing works, so it could be he remembers what happened, but can't say or do anything about it because I've forbidden him to do so. It's an odd feeling, knowing that someone like me could have impacted the life of someone like him. A girl in the shadows making a puppet of a guy who thrives on attention. I shudder and sit down, the weight of what I have done falling upon me like a boulder, seeming to try and crush me beneath it.

I'm suddenly not feeling so hungry any more. I try to nibble at something, anything, but I can't seem to wrap my mind around the idea of food.

_Perfect, _I think. _Now not only am I confused and have a headache, but I'm apparently getting sick as well. _

As the Hall starts to fill up, I sigh and push my food away, standing up and starting to walk away from the table.

I'm half hoping that someone, anyone, will stop me, tell me to come and sit with them, and just the company will make it easier to digest, but sadly that does not happen. I walk slowly, but I still get all the way out of the Great Hall without a word said to me. Of course I should have expected that. No one cares. That's not going to change.

I take my time this morning. I don't have class for a while, and I'm not sure I can handle reading with my head throbbing a mile a minute.

Back in the common room, I sulk. What else can you do when you can barely see and think straight. I'm afraid to ask Trelawney about this; she'll know I've used my powers, and I'm not sure she'd take that well.

A few people come in and out, but they don't seem to notice me, seem to care that I'm sitting there with my head in my hands, inches from tears. It's amazing that anything could feel this horrible, that anyone could possibly survive with this type of pain. I realize I've lived a pretty sheltered life as far as physical pain goes. Emotional, however… that's another story.

I have never wanted for class to start more. When it finally comes time for me to go to Herbology, I could kiss my schedule.

It takes a pretty long time to get to the greenhouses, but I'm getting a bit used to the throbbing by now, so I don't have to walk as slowly to avoid running into things.

If this is Harry's headache I've somehow joined in, I don't know how he can stand it. I feel a bit more admiration for the "Boy Who Lived".

Professor Sprout explains our lesson today, something to do with a very large and formidable looking plant, the puss from which can cure nearly any ailment known to man.

We are separated into groups to work on watering, trimming, and eventually repotting the plant, the name escaping me no matter how many times she says it. I get paired with a few nameless Hufflepuffs, none of whom say a word to me except the occasional order or request regarding our assignment. It hurts, but not any more than I'm used to, to see them chatter away, and never once try to include me.

Finally, blissfully, the class ends, and I can round up my bags and attempt to get away without any more bruising to my hopes and dreams to finally be accepted.

Potions is not much better. But then, that's to be expected. Potions is NEVER a good thing. Not even in the slightest.

I spend most of the time staring mournfully into my cauldron. Our class has an odd number, so I got the thrill of being the lone one. Luckily, I'm all right at potions, so I don't really need a partner. It would just be nice, not being in the back row by myself, watching everyone else brew their stupid potions, and laugh and smile.

"Hey, think fast, Shi," the unmistakable voice of Blaise Zabini says from somewhere in front of me. A folded up piece of paper whacks me between the eyes—I've never been very coordinated.

"Not what I'd call fast," he says, smiling, then jerking back up to look forward, as Snape is coming towards us. I've never gotten a note before. I'm not sure, at first, what to do. And then, of course, the solution comes to me. Hide it, read it when Snape's prying eyes are elsewhere.

When he finally slithers away, I peek at the note under my desk.

_Hey Shi (I'm going to call you that, all right?),_

_Sorry about Draco. It looks like you handled it—beats me as to how. Anyway, let's have breakfast again sometime, okay? We've still got loads to learn about each other, you know? And it's refreshing not spending all my time with someone like Draco. He's all about terrorizing Gryffindors. Don't write back, Snape has eyes like a hawk, and you're not Slytherin, so you'll get busted for sure._

_Blaise_

I'm not an expert in the matter, so I'm really not sure if this is typical note etiquette or not. I'm just sort of hoping, for whatever reason, it's just… classic Blaise. Because I want to get to know someone, really get to know them. And he seems like a pretty good candidate.

**End note: **Oh bugger, it's short again… well… enjoy? Lol Hope you like it! REVIEW, please. It may motivate me to add more, you know. –wink, hint, nudge-


	9. Trying To Understand

Silver Eyes

By: FreakyHotGeek

**Note: **Not bad on the review front with the last few chapters! Yay! As such, I'm trying to crank this baby out super quick! ((Didn't happen… sorry dears!))

**Disclaimer: **-brandishes autograph pen for a few seconds before face falls- No, I am sorry, but I cannot lie to you… I do not own Harry Potter. J.K. Rowling does.

Chapter 9

Trying To Understand

I sort of drift through most of my classes. Between the headache, which still throbs at my temple, and the note from Blaise, I find it very difficult to think. By the time Divination comes around, I've resolved to ask Trelawney about the headache. I am not a liar by nature. And besides, there's really very little she can do to punish me. My life… is wanting anyway, so a little detention is not going to hurt.

Once again, there is a crowd waiting at the trap door of Trelawney's classroom. I'm starting to understand her; she likes to hold her students' attention. We won't be let in until every last student is waiting at the foot of the ladder.

"Pretty quick thinking in Snape's class," Blaise says suddenly from behind me. It's all I can do not to jump a foot in the air. I manage about an inch.

"Well it's… a bit rare I get any notes," I admit carefully.

"I figured as much. The look on your face was priceless! And just so you know, not many Gryffindors can get away with that kinda stuff."

I arch an eyebrow. "So why did you risk it?"

"You're in the back row. I figured that gave you an about fifty-fifty chance of getting away with it."

I smile softly, not sure if he's teasing me or telling the truth. "I think Snape was a _bit _preoccupied with making Harry Potter's life a living nightmare to worry about me."

Blaise's eyes went a bit dark. I resisted the strong urge to try and figure out what he was thinking.

"Harry Potter," he said very slowly. "Has had everything in his life handed to him. I think that one person not making it so easy is more or less justified."

I look at the floor. "Well… it's not really right to try to make someone miserable," I begin. "But, it's going to happen anyway, at some point in their life."

"Welcome, welcome!" Professor Trelawney says from above us. I'm glad because where this conversation was heading sounded a bit too much like an argument.

We shuffle up through the trapdoor and into our respective poufs, Trelawney standing at the front of the class, eyes huge from the spectacles that I suspect may only be a prop she uses to add quirk to her appearance.

"Now that you know the basics of meditation," she says mystically. "You must perfect the art. Today, that is what you will be doing. Empty your minds, travel deep within yourselves… I will awaken you when it is time to return to the world you know as school."

I exchange a glance with Blaise. He's smiling as well at the way she phrases things. And he must be at least somewhat used to it, if he's been in her class three years. I feel almost relaxed.

"Remember… open your mind… drift freely into the inner reaches of yourself… I will sound this gong when it is time for you to awaken."

Smiling still, I assume the proper position with only minor difficulties, and close my eyes, trying to breathe steady, but it's a bit hard to forget I'm in a room of other students. Curiosity to know what they're doing is overwhelming. I peek. They've all got their eyes closed like good students, meditating or at least pretending to. I sigh and give it another go.

The next thing I'm aware of is the ringing of Trelawney's gong, and then the ferocious growl of my stomach. I'm glad it's nearly time for dinner.

"Skip lunch, Shi?" Blaise asks , sliding his bag over his shoulder.

"No," I tell him. "Just hungry again."

And it's true. I'm not the kind of girl who skips meals. Much. Only when I'm feeling too lonely to face the Great Hall, or too left out. Today is certainly not one of those days.

"Then you should come with me out to the lake again," he said with a sly smile. "Draco has Prefect duties again, and I shall be lonely."

I want to smack him in the face for only inviting me to lunches and dinners when Draco Malfoy isn't around, but it's not like I want to be in that sort of company anyway. "All right," I say, and then I realize something. "Why… I'd have thought you too would be a Prefect."

Blaise grinned a huge, wicked grin. "It was offered… but I turned it down. Wouldn't want to risk losing my mischievous air, now would I?"

I sigh and shake my head a bit, but I know he's just joking around… I think.

He smiles at me, and takes my bag. "I shouldn't let you hold these with a man in your presence," he says, with this look in his eyes like, "I dare you to question a thing I say." Obviously, I don't. I'm a bit too stunned to say anything. I'm sort of learning that's the best way to handle him sometimes.

We walk a bit in a sort of comfortable silence. I'm so used to the quiet, it doesn't bother me to be dealing with it now. At least there is someone there with me now, holding my things. It comes to me to wonder at how my life has changed so much, and ask why, now, it's doing so. But then I'm afraid if I question it, it'll all fall apart.

"What're you thinking about, being so quiet?" Blaise says, looking at me in a very odd way indeed. Like he's trying to see into MY soul. I resist as best I can the urge to look him blank in the eye and see what he's made of. I know I'm afraid to find out it's nothing to do with me. Or worse. It DOES have something to do with me. Which of course couldn't be true, but if it were… that would be too much change to handle. Too big an impact on a lonely life that I've grown used to.

"I don't really know…" I say, knowing it's a lie and knowing he knows.

"Well if you didn't want to tell me," he says, smirking, "Then just say so next time."

I feel my face get hot, and I look at the floor. I've never, ever spoken with someone at Hogwarts enough to be caught in a lie like that before.

"I'm sorry," I say truthfully. "My people skills… are a bit lacking."

Blaise shakes his head. "Now don't say that," he says, that teasing glint coming into his eyes. "You're never supposed to admit that! That's bad people skills!"

I give him a light tap of a punch on the arm, which somehow feels right, though I've never done anything of the sort before. I hope he won't take it badly, but he doesn't seem to. "Don't tease me," I say, but I'm laughing.

"Oh, come on," he says, grabbing my arm and dragging me into the Great Hall.

I'd like to say that people turned, stared, were amazed to see me enter the room with the handsome Blaise Zabini, but it would be a lie, and I don't see the point in lying about such a thing. We came into the room, gathered our food, and went out, without any notice, save a few of Blaise's friends offering out snide remarks or high fives or other inner-Slytherin-social-working things that I can't quite say I much care about.

"Why don't your little Gryffindor groupies ever say anything to you when I'm around?" Blaise asks suddenly. I jump a bit, startled by the question, but avoid a major klutz attack, and keep my balance.

"I…" it's hard for me to say, but I don't want to lie again. "I don't really have… many close friends… in Gryffindor," I say, putting it into the words that feel the least painful to me.

He looks at me for a long minute. "That's stupid," he says. "Why?"

Having him put it so bluntly, to ask "why?" makes me step back and wonder.

"I… I really don't know," I say after a long moment. And I realize, I really don't. There's not a good reason for it, the reason for my sadness and bitterness for so long. "I've not… not done anything…" I mumble, more to myself than Blaise.

"Well don't worry about it," he says, grinning broadly. "Now you've got me, and I'm sure I'll occupy a lot of your time."

I blink at him, wondering what that's supposed to mean, exactly. The problem is… it's hard to tell when Blaise's being serious, and what he means by half the things he says.

_This boy's going to drive me mad, _I realize. _But he also may have saved me from insanity._

**End note:** AH! Sorry it took so long! I love you all, please please review! I'll be better next time… I hope!


	10. Something's Changed

Silver Eyes

By: FreakyHotGeek

**Note:** Well it's been a while yet again, but have some sympathy… I am having a lot of trouble and writer's block with this for some reason…

**Disclaimer:** I STILL don't own Harry Potter, alas I am not rich and cannot buy a laptop…which would end up resulting in quicker chapters for you I assure.

Chapter 10

Something's Changed

As we walked out onto the grounds, my mind was running a million circles, none of which brought me any closer to understanding the person that is Blaise Zabini.

We chatted about this and that, nothing much that, upon looking back, I could recall. I was too busy wondering why, how, I had ended up here, of all places. With Blaise, of all people.

When we actually reached the lake, however, things started to get a bit… weird. We sat down, as always, though I found it hard to believe that this had happened often enough to become familiar to me.

"So," Blaise says, taking out some bread and spreading butter onto it, rather calmly, as if sitting here with me was nothing of concern. I shakily picked up a piece myself, and nearly dropped it into the water. Something, this time, was different. Perhaps it was me. I was changing, that much was clear. "Draco seems to have given up on giving you a hard time," he says, regarding me with what could only be called curiosity. I gulp, wondering what excuse I'm supposed to come out with.

"Er…" I say. "Yeah, he… has."

He regards me with that same look of curiosity. "You're really something else," he says, shaking his head. I'm not sure how to interpret that.

"Something else… What do you mean?" I say, before I can tell myself to stop asking questions.

Blaise smiles. "That," he says, "Is for me to know, and you to wonder about."

I sigh and shake _my _head. "You," I say. "Are so confusing sometimes."

He smiles again. "I know."

I can't help but to laugh.

A few minutes pass in silence, but already I'm learning about Blaise, and one of those things is that he hates silence.

"So, how are your classes going?" Blaise asks.

"All right, I guess," I respond. The air around us now seems to be a bit electrified, though with what I'm not sure. "What about you?"

"So far I'm just being good this year," he says with a huge grin. "Which means no detentions, just good grades. For some reason, they don't seem to trust me." He puts on a falsely innocent face that makes me turn red with laughter.

"Well maybe you have to give them a reason to trust you," I say without thinking.

"Is that what I have to do?" he responds, looking at me strangely. "And what could I do to do that?"

It occurs to me that we are no longer talking about teachers, not in his mind. We're talking about me and I know it. But I don't know what to say.

"I guess… you would do… whatever feels right," I say carefully. I don't know what's going on inside his head, and it was making me mad trying not to look, trying not to press and find out using my new powers. I had this awful feeling that if I did, he'd know I was, and that he'd be disappointed in me… that I wouldn't be the person he'd thought I was. And for some reason, that scares me. Because I don't know who I am, so I have to hope someone has an idea.

"I'll have to try that," Blaise says, leaning towards me. I tense up, afraid. He wasn't going to kiss me, was he? "You've got an eyelash, just there," he says softly, plucking it off my cheek tenderly. The breath I'd been holding whooshed out. Maybe I'd read it wrong… maybe he had been talking about the teachers, not about me. I was just nervous, because something felt different. But maybe it was only me that was different, and Blaise was still exactly the same.

"We'd better… go back," I say after a few minutes of silence.

"Just when I was getting used to the absence of sound," Blaise says with a smile. "I'll walk you back."

I just look at him.

"What, you expected I'd just part with you once we got to the castle?"

I blush. I'd been thinking exactly that. "This isn't some clever plot to get the location of the Gryffindor common room, is it?" I ask, summoning all the courage inside of me to make the joke, because I'm losing it inside to some strange force I don't recognize. Or at least hope I don't.

"Oh please, that?" Blaise says. "You underestimate me. I learned where that was in my first year."

I grin. Maybe things would be back to the way they'd started out this year by tomorrow. I just needed some sleep.

That's what I was telling myself, anyway.

**End note:** Sorry sorry sorry! Please still read and review! T.T


	11. Reading Palms

Silver Eyes

By: FreakyHotGeek

**Note: **I know, I know, it's been too long , and I really am sorry! I'm trying to get these to you, but with school almost starting up, I'm really busy trying to get out and enjoy the rest of my summer, not to mention shopping for school things! Hope you enjoy this chapter, nonetheless.

**Disclaimer:** So, I was playing Kingdom Hearts the other day (which I also don't own) and I was like, fighting Leon in the Pegasas cup… oh yeah, that's right… don't own Harry Potter!

Chapter 11

Reading Palms

The moment I wake up the next morning, I know things are not going to go back to the way they'd been the first few days I'd spent with Blaise. Now, looking back, I am sure I had just imagined that it had felt so much like nothing. Because now, it feels like everything. And in a way, it was everything. I didn't have a life besides school before I met him.

I try to breathe easy, but it is somehow harder to suck in air now than it ever had been before. Because I was different, the very air around me was different, too. I'm not so sure I like the feeling.

I wonder what I am supposed to do now that my mind has been taken over by some strange new feeling. Do I carry on the way I always have, and pretend nothing has changed? How do I talk to Blaise now? The same way, or another?

I've never been through this before, and I have no one to turn to.

Trelawney's lesson that day was the only thing that I could really focus on. Her class, and her tutoring afterwards.

"You're not focusing hard enough," Blaise says as I stare at his palm, my cheeks flushed. For unexplainable reasons, we are doing palm readings in class today. I don't pretend to understand Professor Trelawney.

"It's difficult," I mutter. She'd told us that, if we were having trouble seeing the lines, we should trace them with our fingers, and our inner eyes were just supposed to pick up on what it all meant.

"Maybe you should take her advice," Blaise says, grinning in what I'm sure is a flirtatious way.

"Maybe," I answer, squinting. "No," I say. "I've got it now."

I make something up, I can't even remember what now, based on the few lines I can make out, and the scanty knowledge I have about reading palms. And then I realize I probably should have held on to his hand a little longer. Because now… it's his turn to read mine.

"Give he your hand, then," Blaise says, slipping his hand under mine. He looks at it for a good five seconds before he says. "I'm hopeless at this, I can't see a thing."

I smile. "Can't tell the life line from the head line, can you?" I ask, trying to keep the blush out of my face, to no avail. I wonder if I'm coming down with something.

"Not exactly," Blaise answers.

A tingle runs all the way up my arm when he gently traces one of the lines on my palm with his index finger. I stifle a giggle, because it's a bit of a ticklish feeling.

"Ah-ha!" he says. "Here's what I know… I have no idea."

But he's still holding my hand.

"Well… er…" I say. "Can't you tell anything?"

"Your lines all sort of… intersect in a million places, see here?" he points at a few spots where all the lines tangle together. "I've never heard of anything like that, and it's not in the book."

His eyes are level with mine, and I feel like he's peering into my soul, not the other way around. Not that I would ever try that with him. The very idea of it scares me entirely too much, because I'm afraid of what I might see, and how little it would have to do with me.

"Umm… weird," I say. "Let me see." And I yank my hand back. After the moment of relief washes away, I'm left feeling very sad that I did.

"What, think I'm gonna bite?" Blaise says, clearly noticing the ferocity with which I pulled my hand back.

I laugh genuinely, glad he can make a joke of it. "Maybe," I say cryptically.

The bell sounds to end class, and everyone walks out, Blaise calling a quick good bye before disappearing through the trap door with the rest. As Divination was my last class of the day, I'm staying directly after for my lessons with Trelawney.

She turns to me and says, "Your mind is clouded. You will only lead yourself to ruin if you do not learn to keep your emotions and your powers separate."

"I…"

"You are only lucky that it is Mr. Zabini you've fallen for, and not some average wizard boy."

"I… but how did you… I'm not…"

"I have spent all my life studying people and their emotions. And besides, it was all over your face. In the form of a red, creeping blush. Perhaps I should get you a new partner for class activities…"

"Please don't," I say meekly. The idea of having to be so close to someone else pains me, and not just because I would miss him. But also because I would have to watch myself very carefully. "It's just… I don't have to… guard my powers as much around him."

"That is because Blaise is different from most," she told me. "I am not going to explain it all to you, because that is private. I do not tell him of your gifts, and I will not tell you of his."

I sigh, feeling disappointed.

"Now, we aren't getting anywhere until you've meditated and cleared your head," she says sternly.

I lower myself to the ground, and as I delve into my inner self to find peace, I wonder, _What is happening to me?_

I barely recognize myself any more. And I'm not sure how I feel about that.

We never did get anywhere, really. Once I'd realized how much I'd changed, how much my life, and my outlook on it had changed, in such a short time, I couldn't stop thinking, wondering what was going on. Part of it had to be learning about my powers, but another part of it, I was sure, was Blaise, and whatever my feelings towards him were.

I had a sinking suspicion I knew exactly what they were. But I didn't want to face that. I had never learned a thing about that particular emotion.

**End note: **Thanks SO MUCH to those of you who are sticking with me! Hope you like this chapter… it's a bit longer than the last one, at least.


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